Salad
Salad isn't something that you normally get really excited about. Sometimes, though, salads are fun.
Belinda and I always look forward to our salads. I don't think it's because we really love salad (OK, Belinda does but I don't... it wouldn't be my choice for my last meal), but we really love salad nights. A salad is something we make together. It represents teamwork. It's always different, depending on which veggies we got in our vegetable share. It's also one of the few things Belinda helps me prepare.
If I'm grilling meat or making soup, she's nowhere to be found. But, as soon as I pull out a head of lettuce and some carrots, she's in the kitchen, putting on an apron and kicking me out of the way! Never argue with a woman with a knife in one hand and a salad spinner in the other.
I love cooking, so it's no big deal that Belinda doesn't usually help me cook. Long ago, we determined our kitchen was a "one-butt kitchen". If there's more than one person in there trying to cook, that's one butt too many. Somehow, though, we make it work when it's time for salad, which is a good thing. I don't think a salad I made by myself would taste nearly as good.
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